So I’d let him share my bed. But I certainly wouldn’t be sharing anything else—especially not my heart.
That, I’d make sure he never got close enough to break.
***
Two children galloped ahead of their mother in the tall, grassy field. Her laugh chased after them, bright and carefree. She hiked up her skirts and leaped over a fallen log as they neared the forest.
Her son—his long hair tangled from the wind—picked up a fallen stick and brandished it like a sword.
His sister screamed a protest as he struck her with it.
“Vaeron, control yourself,” his mother chided, finally catching up to the two and confiscating the makeshift weapon.
“Yes, mother,” he sighed, sulking toward an orchard a short distance away. His sister galloped along beside him, poking fun at his shiny new pin bearing the House Räviel sigil. Bright blue lightning forked through shattered glass, and the wordslet it breakringed the edges.
“This is a sign I’m becoming a grown male,” he pointed out, dropping to the ground beneath an apple tree.
“Mother, when will I receive my first jewel?” she huffed, arms crossing.
Their mother ruffled her misty hair. “In two decades, when you are the age your brother is now. Patience,Iaoth.”
She rolled her eyes and stomped away.
The young male grinned. His sister had never possessed the propensity for the virtue, like he had. Years of combat training had honed that skill as much as any other.
Yet he still yearned for these quiet, simple moments with his family. His father—brutal and cruel—never ventured out with them.
It was a rare relief to be away from him. Though he’d never admit that to anyone. No, he couldn’t afford to show weakness or vulnerability. Not when he was the heir to House Räviel. Not when his father had plans for his unique, newly-manifested Command power.
Besides, whispers of Demons summiting the spine of Keleti to raid Angel border villages had surfaced. But here, in the country, a few days’ ride away from the base of the Skala Mountains, they were supposed to be safe.
The warmth of the sun blossomed across his skin. His mother’s laugh as Iaoth attempted to climb a low-hanging limb drew a smile to his lips. With a twist of his hands, he snaked a strand of ivory around an apple above his head and tugged it free.
His mother and sister continued their trek through the orchard to check on the rest of the autumn harvest. With their noble status, they had plenty of workers to pick the fruit once they were all fully ripe. But the trio had been the first to survey the trees for decades, and for decades their tradition would continue.
He bit into the apple, testing its skin and taste. Sour notes danced over his tongue. Face screwed up, he tossed it away. Only for the fruit to plunk against something metallic.
In an instant, he surged to his feet.
A dark laugh greeted him. His stomach knotted. In thedistance, feminine shrieks raised the hairs on the back of his neck.
“How fortunate we are to discover three powerful Angels this day,” a male spoke in the common tongue, voice thick, heavy, and guttural.
He stepped around a trunk, revealing himself.
A Demon.
Tall, broad, his sharpened teeth flashing in the sun, he was everything the youngling had been taught to both fear and hate.
Instantly, Vaeron called upon his white power, readying to protect himself.
Why didn’t I bring a weapon?he thought, heart thundering against his ribs.What use is an heir who can’t shield his own family?
Especially as the male stepped forward, a bronze sword dragging against the ground alongside him, like he didn’t even consider this Angel child a threat.
That was his greatest mistake.
Air dragged through the multicolored leaves as he sucked in a breath. On his exhale, he called on his Goddess-blessed power. “HALT.”
